“See, there’s a plus!” I smile, but even I know this isn’t a good look for the reverend. Maybe he was having a bad night?
Henrietta stops in her tracks, and I’m positive a trench now divides my room in half. “You call that a plus? That was the least he could do after treating me like I wasn’t there for most of the evening. Seriously, Emma Jane. I think he asked, like, one question about me. The rest of the conversation, if you can even call his ranting that, was centered around him or how nothing met hisexpectations. I think he was disappointed it was me there and not you.”
“Nonsense,” I interject. “He was probably too flustered to act right around you. Men lose their sensibilities in the presence of a pretty woman. I’ve seen the way he looks at you in church. He’s definitely interested.” The looks he gives her during the sermons sometimes border on creepy, but he’s over our church, so I don’t doubt his intentions. Though if what she’s saying is true, maybe I should.
Henrietta takes to frustrated pacing again as I put down my pen and set to work putting together a puzzle to calm my nerves and redirect the part of my brain that needs to be actively doing something to think appropriately. The puzzle is an 8,000 piece English landscape, and I might have to frame this one. “Give it one more date next weekend, okay? If he acts like that again, then we will call it quits. But I’m banking on the fact that you flustered him and his inner immature boy came out.”
She’s quiet for a while as I continue my puzzle, but then she sighs and agrees. “The best part of my night was running into Marcus afterwards. Well, it was weird since I rejected his confession, but I did find out something you may find interesting.”
I nod at her to continue, and she finally takes a seat across from me, tracing a green puzzle piece in her fingers. “Marcus said Knightley might suffer in the election because he isn’t Southern Baptist or in a committed relationship.”
That gets my full attention. “He… what? Why?”
“Sounded like the other two candidates are married with kids, and in the mindset of many, that means they can manage the townbetter. Plus Jay has the endorsement of the new president of the local Southern Baptist Association.”
Disdain for small towns and denominational rivalries boils beneath the surface of my skin. “But he hasmayored,or whatever word you would use, Juniper Grove just fine for his past term. He was elected by a landslide in the first round.”
“He ran practically unopposed,” she reminds me. “Of course it was a landslide victory. Times have changed these past four years. National politics are trickling down to local politics. Many people love Independent Darcy Marshall as our president because he’s a centrist in this divided country. We know the democrat candidate doesn’t stand a chance in this mayoral election, so many will vote for Jay since he’s more of a centrist—while still being conservative—than Knightley is. And those who typically vote Republican will choose the Southern Baptist candidate over Knightley.”
I stare at her, watching as she drops the puzzle piece and fidgets with her curly ponytail as if she didn’t just speak “political reporter” fluently. “You should go into politics.”
She barks out a laugh, shaking her head profusely. “Not a chance.”
“A career in reporting on politics, then?”
“Nope. I only got the information I did from Marcus. He’s the one who should dip his toes into that field. Not me.”
Hm.Interesting…
“I guess I have to match Knightley with someone so that he can win this election. It’s not like he’s going to change his church denomination, nor wouldI want him to.”
I smile brightly at Henrietta as she looks at me with horror, and then she clasps both hands over her mouth as if telling me all that was a secret. As I assemble the puzzle again, my brain spinning with date ideas for Knightley, Henrietta says she needs to go.
“Don’t forget about the date with Reverend Philip next weekend! I’ll text you both the details. After date three, you two should be good to go on your own.” I beam with pride as I slide another piece into place. She shouts something unintelligible as she exits my room.
This is it. The golden ticket I need to launch my matchmaking business full-scale. If I am successful with Knightley, the hot, young mayor of Juniper Grove who has been single for the past eight years since his wife died in a tragic accident on their honeymoon, then I can make this business work for me.
Guilt tugs at my consciousness, warning me that I shouldn’t celebrate this, especially since Cami, his former wife, basically became a part of our family when she started dating Knightley. Her death sent shockwaves through her hometown of Willow Bay and here; she was once the sweetheart of her town, much like Hartfield chose me for whatever reason. We had a lot of things in common apart from our platinum-blonde hair. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve come to understand just how much common ground we shared.
Both of our mothers died giving birth to us. We both were raised by a rich, doting father. We both were homeschooled, taught to speak French and Spanish, and both loved Knightley Austen. Well, she loved him romantically, and I loved him as an older brother at my mere age of eleven when they married.
One thing that sets our personalities apart, however, was when she was seventeen—I was seven years old—she disappeared for three months from her hometown. The local news and investigators speculated about it, and I was intrigued by the case. Nothing ever came to light, though. She was gone, and then she was back. It was after that she moved and met Knightley in college at Ole Miss. She stayed here with us while on college breaks. To this day, I don’t know what happened to her, but whenever I wanted to play dolls with her, a hollow look would flash across her face, and she’d mindlessly reach behind her neck. She always wore turtlenecks. Even in the heat of a Mississippi summer. Even when she’d take us down to the coast to vacation in Willow Bay for a few days out of each summer.
I miss her often, and my heart aches for Knightley because I know he must miss her much more than I do.
I shake my head, detouring from walking further down memory lane.
Cami would want this for me. She’d want Knightley to find love again, and she’d want me to be successful. That is something I know for sure. She loved me and treated me like a little sister. More so than my actual older sister who rarely returns home from London to visit.
The biggest hurdle I face is that I've heard Knightley tell Papa he’s sworn off marriage. Papa was thrilled as he knows the pain of losing a spouse is unbearable. He didn’t want to see Knightley possibly go through that pain twice. Which is why Papa himself has never sought to remarry. Mama was it for him, and while I never knew her, Iknow by the way he talks of her that I remind him the most of her.
That’s why I’ll remain single. That and I can’t give a man children. Most likely, but to me, the slightest inclination that I can’t is enough to say that it won’t happen.
But Knightley is still young at thirty-six. He’s got a lot of life ahead of him, and he would make some woman very happy, no doubt. He could have kids with her.
He could make you happy,a mousy voice in my head squeaks. Pft, as if. I swat the ignorant thought away as if it’s a gnat buzzing around my face. Nonsensical thoughts from his lousy, stupid, unintentional flirting.
The man is thirteen years older than me. He’s basically family. He reminded me of that yesterday as he ruffled my head like I was an inconsequential child. No matter that he held me tightly throughout the film. No matter that he smelled like spruce and vanilla and buttery popcorn with a hint of chocolate. No matter how my insides turned to mush somewhere near the halfway point of the movie because being in his arms made me feel warm and safe.
